


Into the Pit

by LunaRS



Series: Angels and Demons [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Comfort/Angst, Dark, F/M, Hell, Hellhounds, Horror, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-24
Updated: 2013-08-13
Packaged: 2017-12-16 01:42:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/856334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaRS/pseuds/LunaRS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Unlike Angels, Demons don't have to learn emotions; we try not to...remember them."</p><p>Continuation of my Angel Kisses story (Crowley ending cont.)</p><p>find out what it was like living with Crowley in Hell...<br/>please comment!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Into the Pit

Screaming, agony, torture; darkness.   
All these surrounded you all at once, making your head feel as if it were going to explode. You shivered with fright as you looked around and saw the fiery ground, the people being torn apart and put back together again; deformed faces of Demons and their defiled prisoners. 

You wondered why the burning ground didn't burn your feet and the Demons shied away from you reluctantly. You looked up at Crowley to see him straining not to show the pain he felt on his face; the fires of the ground were obviously torturing him while they seemed to shy away from your person.   
After a while of walking, a mansion came onto view; you could only assume it was Crowley's. Suddenly you found yourself and Crowley inside the mansion, in the bedroom. Although you were in the mansion, the screams surrounded you and at first you didn't hear Crowley speak to you.

"(Y/N)!" He shouted. You jerked at his voice and looked at him, the screams getting distant for some reason. He handed you a silk black slip when he had gotten your attention.   
"Put this on and get to bed." He said, suddenly calm again. He loosened his tie and pointed towards what you assumed to be the bathroom. You shivered a bit but you didn't argue and you did as you were told; you had no wish to find out what would happen if you disobeyed the King if Hell. 

Once in the bathroom, you started to undress and you slipped on the black slip to find that it fit you comfortably. When you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you were startled by what you saw. Your skin had a very bright ethereal glow to it and you looked about ten thousand times more gorgeous than you had before. Then you noticed two pitch black impurities on your wrists and when you tried to rub them off, they wouldn't come off.  
After marveling at your new looks in the mirror for a few moments, poking at the blotches on your wrists, you walked timidly out if the bathroom in the showy slip.

Crowley, now dressed in a black t-shirt and sweats, looked at you and let his gaze sweep over every inch of your body hungrily. You trembled with fear. His eyes slowly met yours and he beckoned you towards him. You quickly walked up to him and looked down, shaking.

"...don't worry," he started, looking reluctant. He set his hands on your shoulders and leaned his face towards yours. You were too frightened to struggle.   
Something new sparked in his eyes.  
"Don't be so scared. Do you know what fear does to a Demon?" Crowley asked in a gentle purr, making you shiver.   
His lips met yours and he took control, kissing you hungrily while you remained at a loss as to what you should do. His hands found your waist and he pulled you towards his body and you began to relax into the kiss.   
Your body was all a-buzz.  
His hands slowly slid up your waist and found your breasts and you gasped and pulled away, taking a step back; you'd never been touched like that before. Crowley gave you a peculiar look and then sighed.

"Get into bed." He said curtly.  
'Is he gonna...' you thought as you obeyed; the bed was actually very comfortable.  
"No, I won't do anything tonight." He said, startling you.  
'Can he read my thoughts?' You thought.  
"Yes I can. Just go to sleep." Crowley grunted and slipped under the covers. You stopped shaking and closed your eyes.   
For five minutes you tried to sleep but you could not block out the screams of pain and agony.   
After hearing a particularly piercing shriek, you sat up abruptly and quickly drew the covers up to your face as frightened tears began to fall.   
Crowley grunted as he sat up and placed a warm hand on your shoulder.  
"Don't be afraid, darlin'." He said softly in your ear. You concentrated on not shaking but it was no use.

Crowley then pushed you down on the bed after you failed to calm yourself and leaned over you on a dominating fashion.   
"Wait, I thought you said you wouldn't do anything?!" You said, alarmed when he held your wrists to the bed.   
Crowley grinned devilishly.  
"Never trust a Demon, love." He said as you were delved into a frightening night of passion amongst the screams and blasphemies of Hell itself.


	2. Scream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what's it like in Hell?

Everything was silent. 

It was eerily calm. You sat up in the bed and rubbed your eyes. You were exhausted; Crowley had outdone himself last night.  
‘If every night’s gonna be like last night, I’ll never get any rest…’ you thought drowsily. You felt tingly all over as the aftermath of intercourse with Crowley.   
You sighed and fell back against the bed.   
Everything was so calm that you could hear your own heart beating. It chilled you to the bone. After a few moments, you realized that Crowley was gone and there was a note on the end table on his side of the bed. You rolled over to the side of the bed, the silence making you feel frantic and restless inside.

You picked up the note and read it aloud to yourself.

‘Good morning darlin’. I’ll return in a few days. There are clothes for you in the wardrobe; wear them if you like. Every door in my mansion is open to you except my office; I’ll know if you go in there so save yourself some trouble and obey.  
Crowley,  
King of Hell.

You set the letter down and heaved another sigh. Well, at least you were allowed to go exploring around the mansion. You opened the huge wardrobe by the door to find luxurious clothes and it looked as if they were all your size. They were all in different assortments of red, gray, and black, but they were magnificent. They were all formal wear; your previous casual clothes were nowhere to be found.  
‘Classy…’ you thought.

You quietly chose a slimming red dress, with a low cut in the back, and it fit perfectly; there were cuts in the waist portions and a long slit running from the bottom of the dress to your upper thigh. All in all, it looked pretty sexy on you.  
You walked into the bathroom and suddenly you heard a distant scream. You stopped stiffly and your hearing perked up.   
Nothing.   
You shook your head and assumed it was just your imagination. You did your hair, humming as you worked at it, and when you were satisfied with the way you looked, you walked out of the bathroom then out of the bedroom. For some reason, you found the long hallway very intimidating and you ran back into the bedroom, panting.   
You slid down against the door and held your knees to your chest in security.

You heard another scream from the outside of the mansion and you gasped. It was bloodcurdling. Then another voice rose up, wailing and choking. Another scream; another shriek. Your heart pounded hard in your chest and you covered your ears, to no avail.   
The screams just kept getting louder and louder, more and more terrifying; you could almost hear the blood dropping from the prisoners’ tortured bodies; you could almost see it flowing from their wounds.

You vomited violently over the side of the bed and began to cry, running to the bed to bury your head under the pillows.   
You could hear the flesh being stripped piece by piece from unrepentant sinners’ bodies; you heard them choke, gasp, wheeze, wail, bawl; you unwillingly listened to their gurgling voices as they drowned over and over again on their own blood.  
You could now smell that blood, rotting on their flesh, bile and chitin mixing in with the bloody stench. You smelled fear on their brows, branded into their tortured souls.

Your mind’s eye was supplied by the noises and began to form images in your mind of what must have been happening. You could see the tortures now. You shook until you felt sick again. You trembled and felt as if you had to listen to one more moment of this torture and agony, you would die of a heart attack; you wished you could die but you already had, in a sense.

You suddenly began to laugh, uncontrollably. You couldn’t get yourself to stop. You laughed so hard it made your stomach hurt and even after vomiting on the floor again, you couldn’t stop the laughter.   
It frightened you more than the screams and the shrieks; the bloodcurdling shouts for mercy.  
You laughed hysterically, tears streaming down your face.  
‘I’m going insane…’ you thought.

Then your laughter changed to agonizing wails and your body shook as you sobbed.   
This was Hell.  
Four hours you cried, unable to stop yourself.   
Finally your soul grew exhausted and you slipped into a very light sleep, waking at every new shriek that would join with the congregation of unholy souls in torment.

Screaming, torture; agony.  
Dark, restless; frightening.  
Yes.  
This was indeed Hell and its King had abandoned it for the time being.


	3. Angel Chatter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What can you do to ease the insanity?

You woke to the sound of…silence.  
You sat up, breathing in the scent of Crowley but now blood or flesh. However, Crowley had still not returned.  
You heaved a long and hard sigh. Getting up, you quickly cleaned up you vomit, thinking Crowley would get very angry if you left it there.  
You then walked over to the wardrobe and changed your red dress to a black one that showed off your upper body in a very classy and flatteringly sexy way; looking at the clock, you saw that you had passed out for the whole day and the night as well, seeing how it was morning again.

You walked to the bathroom and redid your hair, anticipating the screams from before. The staunch silence hung thick in the air; you could hear the blood rushing through your ears, it was so quiet.  
You decided to go exploring through the mansion; you wanted to distract yourself from the screaming that you were sure would arrive at any moment.

With a deep breath, in and out, you stepped out of the bedroom and faced the intimidating hallway with what you guessed could be called courage.  
It wasn’t as frightening this time and even though you didn’t know what to expect, you took a step forward and your body began to glow brighter, lighting the way in the darkness until you found the light switch.

The hall was magnificent when laminated by the chandeliers’ light on the ceiling. You stared in awe at the tapestries on the wall and you marveled at the crimson marble floor.  
Then the first shriek met your ears and you found yourself running down the hall, hoping that if you ventured deeper into the mansion the screams would be muffled and you’d be able to handle the sound of it all a bit more easily.

It was no use, however; the sound seemed to follow you down the hall eerily, getting louder as if it were slowly catching up to you.   
You ran frantically through a random door to your left and were met by a library full of a variety of old and decrepit books as well as new and modern novels. You ran to the farthest corner of the room and shivered, hugging your glowing body tightly and shutting your eyes as the screams once again began to overcome your senses.   
You covered your ears to no use and the tears came to your eyes as your heart raced faster than you thought possible.

Suddenly, a buzzing of whispers and quiet murmuring rose over the screams and shrieks of agony. You uncovered your ears and looked around.  
Seeing no one there, you listened harder and…there it was again. Whispering, mumbling…  
You couldn’t discern any of the words but it distracted you from the screaming efficiently; it made the screaming tolerable.   
The longer you concentrated the more words you could understand and it mesmerized you.   
“Dean…Mi…de…” you heard.   
You listened harder.  
The voices were many but every once in a while you could hear one clearly, but only for a moment before it was drowned out by the rest of the whispers.  
“I don’t…why…Lord?” you tried harder still.  
“(Y/N)…you can’t! It…her!” 

You gasped at your name, startled. The screams then came flooding into your ears and bewildered you for a few moments.   
It took you a bit until you could focus on the voices again.  
You recognized Castiel and Gabriel’s voices in the mass of talking; you guessed you were listening to Angel-Chatter.

For days you worked on your concentration and you began to be able to listen to whole sentences. You relished the moments of peace it gave you from the constant frenzy of wailing and crying in Hell; you relished the times when you could hear Gabriel and Castiel talking in the muddled array of voices. 

After a few more days, you hardly noticed the screaming anymore but you mostly kept to yourself in the bedroom or the library, not daring to explore any farther until you were more comfortable.  
Crowley returned to the mansion one day, wounded a bit and limping slightly. You looked up when he opened the door and entered the bedroom, looking weary and grumpy.  
“Crowley?” you said, setting down your book; you had found that when you read, when you couldn’t hear the Angel-Chatter, it distracted you from the horrors around you.

Crowley sat down on the bed and sighed, pulling off his black suit jacket and loosening his gray tie.   
“What happened?” you asked, running in to the bathroom to grab what you could to bandage him up and wipe away the blood.  
“I ran into the “terrors in plaid”. They weren’t very thrilled to see me.” He grumbled. You used the dampened towel in your hands to wipe the blood from the cut on his forehead and made sure it was clean.   
Crowley watched you closely as you checked his body for any more injuries.   
You found one on his shin and a few on his neck and hands; you didn’t know why but you wanted to ease his pain; he was the one who brought you to Hell and threatened to kill your beloved Angels; but in your heart you knew it was really you who brought it all upon yourself when you made the choice to accept Crowley’s deal.   
It wouldn’t do to rage at anyone, especially not a demon; not the King of Hell.

When you cleaned his shin wounds and the cuts on his neck, not without grimacing, you examined the lacerations on his hands.   
Crowley held your hands gently and kissed the backs of them.  
“Thanks, darlin’.” He said with a grin.  
You nodded stiffly when he looked you up and down slowly.  
He pulled you close and kissed you. You let him, loosely.

You smiled inwardly; now you had something to keep you distracted; Crowley hadn’t really won. You still got to listen to your Angels talk and somehow, you vowed, you would find a way to talk with them; someday.


	4. Speak of the Devil...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you decide to go exploring in Hell...

It had been three hundred years since you had accepted Crowley's offer. Crowley came and went as he wished, not giving you much attention for a hundred years at a time which you figured to be about a month on the surface; there were times when you caught him gazing at you with a peculiar look when he thought you wouldn't notice.  
Your ability to listen to Angel Chatter over the decades had shielded you every day from the endless screams and shrieks.  
Also, you hadn't aged a day in Hell, but, unknown to you, your soul's glow was lessening every few years.  
You had never once left the magnificent mansion in those three hundred years and you had decided, since Crowley was away, you would take your first steps out into Hell and explore its brimstone and fires.

You could hear the souls outside every once in a while call out to you, saying, "Devil's wife, show us some pity!"  
All you could do was ignore them and hope they’d stop calling to you for help; Crowley had told you that it was against the rules to help them and therefore you shouldn’t even think about giving them a hand…ever.

Crowley didn’t know that you were going to go and explore Hell and you had no intention of telling him or letting him find out. You’d learned after a few years that Crowley’s Demon guards in the mansion were afraid to even look at you, much less talk to you or lay a finger on you for fear of what the King of Hell might do; you took this advantage and made sure that they would keep their traps shut about you leaving.  
You were dressed in a sexy form-fitting scarlet dress that was cut low in the back and a long slit that ran from the bottom to the middle of your right thigh. There was nothing else to wear; Crowley wouldn’t allow casual wear, as he talked of his distastefully often, but he made sure that you never wore the same dress twice, always keeping the wardrobe supplied.

You’d also gotten acquainted, well enough, with Crowley’s huge and terrifying Hellhound: Growley. Thought it scared the living Hell out of you, you’d grown used to it and found that if you fed him regularly, he’d be fine and as pleasant as you could imagine a Hellhound being.

You took a daring bare-footed step out the doorway and onto the burning ground outside. You felt nothing; it was all because of the deal that nothing of the Hellfire could hurt you.  
You took a few steps and breathed in…brimstone…and blood. It took a few moments before you could bring yourself to breathe it all in without puking.

You walked for hours, getting nowhere fast and the farther you got, the worse the displays of violence you saw; the deeper you went in, the more you saw of terrified faces, blood splattering and squelching out of peoples’ bodies, and body parts flying about as people combusted, were torn to bits by Demons and Hellhounds, and tortured each other with the hopes that they would be let off the rack by the important Demons.  
You, however, didn’t hear one part of it; you had perfected your Angel Chatter listening skills but you still hadn’t found a way to talk to them; you could only relish the sound of their voices.

After a few more hours of walking, you had stopped crying from the horrors you’d been seeing and you stood still, staring at a huge iron cage with white and blue writing in some indiscernible language written on each of the bars.  
You tilted your head and gingerly kept walking, listening to nothing in particular since the Angels had stopped talking for now.   
You tuned into the sounds of Hell for the first time in three hundred years to be met by the sound of…surprisingly nothing but far off cries; not enough to stir your imagination very much at all.  
“Don’t worry. You don’t have to listen to the screams…” a calm and gentle voice mumbled from the cage.

“Who are you?” you asked, stepping up to the bars and marveling at the unreadable words. Behind the bars, you could see nothing but the silhouette of someone huddled in the middle of the platform inside.   
You saw the form move and it looked like the person was looking at you.  
Suddenly the person was in front of you, setting his hands and forehead on the bars while looking at you wistfully.  
You took a startled step back.  
“Don’t go.” He said quietly.  
You took a deep breath and inched a bit closer.  
“Who are you?”  
“My name is Lucifer.” He said slowly, staring into your eyes. He had dusty blonde hair and blue eyes; his face had a natural sadness to it and his eyes contained anger, sorrow, and utter loathing; there was also an unwavering aura of fear surrounding him.  
“Like…the Devil?” you breathed in disbelief.  
He nodded and smirked slightly. He looked exhausted.  
“Wh-Why’re you in this cage thing?” you asked shakily.  
Lucifer didn’t blink.  
“Don’t be afraid of me, (Y/N). I won’t hurt you; I couldn’t hurt you even if I wanted to.” He said softly in a sickeningly soothing tone.

You gathered all the courage you could and held his gaze.  
“I’m not going to lie to you either, or trick you. There’s no reason to.” He finished.  
“…What do you want from me?” you asked after a moment.  
“I’m lonely. I just want to talk.” He said.  
“Well, you can start with how you got put in this cage.” You said abruptly.  
Lucifer thought for a long moment, rubbing the metal of the bars with his fingertips.  
“I’m in this cage because I fell from Heaven and I fell because I loved God too much.”  
“That’s a pile of shit!” you spat, suddenly enraged.  
“You didn’t love God too much: you didn’t love God enough! You were too full of pride and greed to bow to Him and his creations. You rebelled against Him.” you hissed angrily.  
“I wasn’t about to bow down to you miserable creatures of sinful imperfection.” Lucifer growled, closing his eyes. You glared at him and when his eyes opened he looked just as tired and sad as ever, a fire of anger still burning in his eyes.

“What’s the wife of the King of Hell doing exploring anyways?” Lucifer changed the subject.  
“I’m not his wife.” You said curtly.  
“You might as well be.” he retorted.  
“…He doesn’t know I’m out here…” you admitted, looking down.  
“Crowley will find out one way or another. My son is very clever.” Lucifer informed you; you could hear him smile.  
You looked up at him in surprise.  
“Crowley’s your son?” you asked.

“In a way, they’re all my sons and daughters…yes.” Lucifer replied.  
Silence again.  
“Why do you look so sad?” you asked.  
Lucifer looked a bit surprised by your question.  
“I miss Heaven I guess?” he said.  
“No, that’s not it…it’s something else.” You prodded.  
His face fell and you almost felt sorry for him; almost but not quite.

“I was…or am, married.” He said quietly.  
“You’re married…?” you echoed in amazement.  
“What’s the Demoness’ name?” you asked haughtily; you found it partially amusing that the Devil had a wife; it almost made him seem weak.  
“She was NOT a Demon!” Lucifer spat, startling you.  
“She was one of the most glorious Angels I had ever laid my eyes on…” his voice trailed off.  
“I apologize.” You said, only a little sarcastic.  
“What was her name?”  
“…It doesn’t matter…” he mumbled, turning away.  
“Okay…what’re these glowing letters?” you asked, pointing to the bars of the cage.  
“They keep the cage locked.” Lucifer explained slowly.  
“Why’re they glowing?”  
“The blue is…my Grace, and the white is from the finger of…Him.” Lucifer said hesitantly.  
Silence once more.  
You sighed and turned to walk away.  
Turning back to him, you looked down.  
“I’m…I’ll visit again if I can.” You said, not really sure why you did; he was the Devil; he was pure evil.  
“I look forward to it.” He said with a smile.

\--------

When you made it back to Crowley’s mansion you were met by Crowley himself standing in the doorway.  
He didn’t look very happy.  
You cleared your throat and looked away from Crowley's gaze. It was, by now, nighttime and all the tortures had come to an end to wait till morning; the Demons used hope as another form of torturing: hope in the minds of those with no hope.

Just after you set both soot covered feet past the doorway, Crowley grabbed your upper arm a bit tightly and led you to the bedroom.   
Once inside, you walked silently to the bathroom to change into whatever Crowley had just handed to you, which happened to be a gray and short slip, and walked back out to sit next to Crowley on the bed and watch him take his gray tie off.

"How was your day outside of the mansion, love?" Crowley asked calmly.  
"It wasn't very pleasant." You replied quietly.  
"Why would you leave? What could the fires of Hell hold that I don't have in here?" He asked, his voice getting gruff.  
"Nothing...I was just curious..." you said slowly, looking down.  
"Did you make it all the way to Lucifer?" Crowley questioned after a moment, his tie now undone as he unbuttoned a few of the top buttons if his black shirt.

“Yes.” You said bluntly; you knew better than to lie to him.  
“Why does it matter? You never told me I couldn’t leave the mansion…’ you continued.  
Crowley was quiet for a long moment before he lifted your chin and looked you in the eye.   
He squinted his eyes and searched yours.  
“Would it be so hard for you to believe that I may actually care, darlin’?” he asked.  
“Can a Demon ‘care’?” you answered his question with a question, daringly.  
"Unlike Angels, Demons don't have to learn emotions; we try not to...remember them." Crowley said.  
“Also, being the King of Hell means I can do and feel anything I want.” He added indignantly.  
“…Just stay away from the bloody Devil, okay?” he asked of you uncharacteristically.

“Why? He can’t do anything to me he said so.” You said defiantly.  
“He was lying. Of course he can hurt you.” Crowley said exasperatedly.  
“But…the deal-”  
“Lucifer is an Angel. He’s not of the Hellfire which means he can do whatever he wants to you if you let him trick you. Don’t go back there.” Crowley said in a tone that let you know that the conversation was over.

You sighed and tuned in to the Angel Chatter, as Crowley began to kiss you; you were beginning to like it, actually.  
None of the Angels were talking. Crowley leaned over you and continued to kiss you.  
‘I wish Castiel and Gabriel could hear me…’ you thought distantly. You began to kiss him back, sliding a hand up his chest to his shoulder and up his neck to his rough hair.  
“We can.”


	5. Void

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they can't save you and so you're plunged into a void of hopelessness...

“We can’t come and save you.” Castiel and Gabriel’s words stuck in your mind, the sound of their defeated voices thick and vivid. You had almost lost that little tiny glimmer of hope that you had always made sure to keep shining. You didn’t even see the point of getting out of bed and getting your dark day started.  
‘I guess I can’t blame them…It was me who made the frickin’ choice in the first place.’ you thought to yourself begrudgingly. You made yourself sit up and sighed. 

The screaming still bothered you but you hardly noticed it now; you were by no means used to the shrieks. Finally you swung your legs over the side of the bed. The Angels weren’t talking and that only made the screaming worse. It was all too overwhelming.   
Only one thought plagued your mind: ‘I need Crowley.’

The thought was startling to you, seeing as though he was a Demon, the King of Hell to be exact, and should not be trusted. Even so you had developed an attachment to the Demon; he was snide, arrogant, and commanding but nevertheless you were in fact developing a need for his presence; it had been one thousand years so far, after all. Only two hundred more and every moment of it was sure to be long and painful.

You looked around for a note which was usually left somewhere around the bed if he was not going to be in the mansion on the present day but there was no such note anywhere. You supposed that had to mean that he was somewhere in the mansion today. Not once in a thousand years had you ever gone searching for Crowley in the mansion; he usually found you when he wanted something.

You got dressed in a long lithe scarlet dress; it was the first dress that wasn’t black or gray in the wardrobe. You then walked out of the bedroom, trying not to look exhausted.   
Your Angels couldn’t save you…so what were you supposed to do for two hundred more years. They would be there every day to comfort you and tell you everything’s going to be alright but every day there was the undeniable fact that Crowley owned you. So why not give him what he wanted?

You walked slowly and leisurely through the hall, looking into rooms to see if Crowley was there but no; you hadn’t found him yet. You took your time, however, in looking. You’d had centuries to learn patience. You focused on a silence in your mind, blocking out the shrieking and the screams; the silence was restless and haunting.

After a few hours of wandering and searching, the only room you that remained untouched by you was Crowley’s office: the one room you were forbidden to explore. For a thousand years you never touched it, never opened the door and looked in, for fear of how angry Crowley would be when he found out; you knew he couldn’t hurt you but he was quite frightening when angry.

You decided, no longer afraid of the consequences and overcome with the need to find Crowley, to venture into his office. You opened the door. It slammed shut behind you, making you flinch a bit. Crowley squinted his eyes at you from behind his desk at the other end of the small but cozy room.

“I thought I told you not to come in here, eva…correct?” he asked, sounding a little annoyed. You only stared at him.   
“Well, go on then. Leave.” He said coldly, looking back down at whatever he was working on. After a few silent moments he looked back up, seeing you hadn’t moved an inch.  
“Something about the word “leave” that confuses you, darlin’?” he questioned, half-glaring at you.   
You felt empty and cold inside. You remembered what Crowley had said just before you died and he took your soul.  
You walked over to him with timid courage and when you made it to his desk, you moved the paperwork in front of him away and sat in front of him on his desk. 

“Pay attention to me.” You said weakly. Crowley looked a bit surprised at you and your audacity to disobey his orders; he looked…amused?  
“Not now, love, I’m busy raising a little Hell.” He said with a smirk, trying to push you off the desk. You hooked your legs onto it; you knew he had the strength to push you off easily but he gave up instead.  
“Fine. What do you want?” he asked with a slight roll of his eyes.  
“I just…wanna be around you…you said that all you wanted was to be loved…” you said, looking down. What did you want?  
Crowley was about to say something but you kissed him instead. He slowly stood and leaned over you on the desk, chuckling amusedly.

“Let me show you something, darlin’.” He said softly.  
You relaxed.  
Just then two wings sprouted between Crowley’s shoulder blades. You watched them grow slowly, at first only bones like glass shards jutting about, before flesh appeared and black and gray feathers, drenched in sticky warm scarlet blood that oozed and dripped sickeningly slowly onto the floor. You noticed that every moment of it seemed to pain Crowley.

You gingerly reached out to touch the blood soaked wings but stopped, looking into Crowley’s face for permission. His pained expression was replaced with a confident grin; he looked very amused by you.  
“Go ahead.” He muttered gruffly, his face hovering in front of yours as he studied your face. You leaned forward and rested your cheek on his jaw, your fingers making contact with viscid and rough feathers, the blood trickling onto your hands.

You shivered. The blood was revoltingly warm and squelched between your fingers.  
“Y-you have wings?” you swallowed down the nauseous feeling in the pit of your stomach.   
“Of course.” He chuckled, his voice rumbling in your ear. You blushed.  
“I used to be an Angel, y’know…” he explained abruptly as if it were obvious.  
“What?” you breathed, leaning back to look at him in astonishment.  
“One of the first to fall alongside Lucifer,” he continued, wiping some blood off his cheek with his thumb.  
“Turned human after falling, forgot everything until I died.” Crowley added in his growl of a voice. He moved his bloodied thumb near your mouth and you, for reasons unknown, licked the blood hesitantly off his thumb. At first you were disgusted with yourself but then a burst of flavor exploded in your mouth. The blood tasted so good; better than anything you’d ever had the pleasure of eating or drinking in your whole life.

You hungrily scraped at Crowley’s feathers, sucking the blood off your fingers frantically.  
“Well, well… somebody’s got a taste for Demon blood.” Crowley observed with a smile.  
You then pulled his wing roughly and licked at his feathers, relishing in the flavor.  
Crowley was startled a bit by your appetite. You yanked at his wings again.  
“Bollocks! That hurts!” he growled, suddenly grabbing your throat, earning a surprised yelp from you.  
He glared and his fingers dug into your neck before his gaze softened and he let go.   
“Go on.” He said quietly. You were too scared to move.  
“I said go on!” Crowley shouted, startling you.   
You rested your chin on his shoulder and gently pulled his wings towards your mouth, sucking on his feathers again, trying to down every ounce of the blood; it made you feel powerful; it made you forget the void inside.


	6. Last Moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> last moments with Crowley before you go back to your body up above

A kiss.

Tender, at first. Now hungry; desperate.  
He clung to you uncharacteristically as if he were clinging to a part of himself, something about himself that he could look at and be proud; prouder than he already was, that is.  
You couldn’t care less. You didn’t love him the way he seemed to “love” you; but he had grown on you, he had become a part of you that you couldn’t let go of easily.  
He was dominating, he was the King after all. You let him take over, knowing you'd be gone soon enough and there was nothing that he could do to keep you there.   
He said he loved you, in his own way. You said you loved him too. You knew it was a lie; /he/ knew it was a lie. But it was nice; it was what he wanted to hear. 

You had spent one thousand and two hundred years in Hell and it, of course, changed you, not necessarily for the worst, but your mind had been marinated in morbid images, torturous screams; a life with the King of all things evil.  
The screaming was present as well, around the two of you; in you. It was agonizing and frightening and you knew Crowley was holding himself back from drinking in your fear…it was almost as if he respected you now. Your heart beat fast as you thought of the excitement of finally leaving and also the partial pain of leaving familiar surroundings.

He said you were his Queen; you said he was your King. You pretended to be happy. You wanted to see him “happy” even if you never would be. You told him you weren't afraid; he knew you were.

Kisses were exchanged absently by you, your ears focusing on something else...something like Angels singing...the Angels were singing for you, well...at least two of them were.

His tenderness turned to curt nods and muttered sentences. You thanked him.  
"For what?" He asked, confused. You kissed him a last time. You only smiled at him in reply, guarding your thoughts so he would not read them.

He gave you something, wriggling and whimpering in your arms. A hell-pup. He said it would protect you. You thanked him for the gift.   
It was time. Crowley's lips hovered over yours and just before they touched, you giggled and you were gone, leaving the King of Hell with only an echo of your voice and an almost kiss from his Queen.  
Fin.

 

A/N: Hey, thanks for reading Into the Pit! Hope you enjoyed it! Sorry if this last chapter was a bit short for you but…yeah. Thanks for your support!


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